


Latter Days Volume 2

by LadyZeppelin1111 (QueenBoudica1770)



Series: Latter Days [2]
Category: Led Zeppelin, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Aging, Aging rock stars, Anal Sex, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Growing Old, Heterosexual Sex, Humor, Jimmy Page/Scarlett Sabet, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Magic, Male Slash, Multi, Multiple Partners, Neo-Paganism, Nonmonogamous Relationship, Older Characters, Other, Paganism, Rock Stars, Scarlett Sabet - Freeform, Sensuality, Sex, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25031506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudica1770/pseuds/LadyZeppelin1111
Summary: Some more of our Latter Day Zeppelin boys, but new drama unfolds, possibly more magic happens, goats get petted, Robert loses his shit, you know, the usual.There'll be some serious stuff, heavy topics, some drama.Good, clean wholesome fun lol.What sort of sexy tales with they get into remembering? Will Jimmy catch cooties from any random goats or cats??No offense meant to any actual persons this is based on. This is a product of my fevered brain lol.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant, Jimmy Page/Robert Plant/Original Female Character(s), John Paul Jones/Robert Plant, Phil Collins - Relationship, Scarlett Sabet - Relationship
Series: Latter Days [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812736
Comments: 15
Kudos: 19





	1. Shocker

**Author's Note:**

> Jimmy pets a goat! 
> 
> But then more tragic things happen. Has Scarlett doomed Robert and Jimmy's love now that they've come together after all these years?

Latter Days 2

1

Sometime not too long ago, maybe last week..

Robert's house, Wales  
Two aging rock stars, sitting beside each other on the porch enjoying the summer, the large, mop-headed one entreating the white-haired one to pet the cat on his lap. "Aw, Jimmurs, pet the cat. She's nice."

"What if she scratches me?" Jimmy asked in all seriousness, eyeballing the calico like she was a ticking bomb.

"Queenie won't scratch you. Oh big and powerful guitar wizard, not afraid of the Dark Forces of the Universe, won't touch a cat. Touch my kitty, Jimmy. Ohhh, OHhh, touch my kitty!" He was now singing it to him, with all the sex he ever had in that voice.

The guitarist laughed, shook his head and rubbed his hand over the purring cat's head, and got a happy "Prrrt," from the calico in response.

It reminded them both of Jimmy's first visit to Jennings Farm in 1969, and while out in the pastures Robert was trying to convince him to pet one of the goats. The dark-haired man stood eyeing the huge white billy goat with shaggy fur standing there just chilling while the singer exhorted him to touch his goat. "C'mon Pagey, pet the goat. Ol' Roy won't hurt you."

"What if I catch something?"

"You're not gonna catch anything," Robert assures him.

"What if he bites?" Jimmy felt that was a rather large goat.

"Roy won't bite. Touch my goat, Jimmyjam. Touch my goat, touch my goooooat," Robert singsonged.

"All right, all right," Jimmy huffed and put his hand on the goat's head and patted. Roy snorted contentedly and kept chewing whatever he was eating.

"Hmm. That wasn't so bad, I suppose," Jimmy had said then.

Back to today…

"Hmm. That was nice," Jimmy said.

"Told you."

Robert was back in London, having had Jimmy visit him for a couple weeks in Wales, then had spent some time with his grandchildren. Oddly enough, he was now at a bistro having dinner with his once-estranged and now reunited husband's ex-girlfriend, chatting like old friends. Jimmy was busy at a speaking engagement and so wouldn't return until late tonight. He had been the caretaker, the archivist for Zeppelin, cataloging and putting out what he thought needed to be seen, fighting against the inevitable roll of time.

"So how are you doing, really?" Robert questioned, and as he usually did, meant it. It was one of his endearing qualities. 

"Oh, I'm managing all right," answered the redhead. "Settled into my new place, got a new spoken word album coming out soon."

"Keeping busy does help."

"Would it make you uncomfortable if I asked you how are things with my ex lover?"

"Nahh," Robert chuckled. "This is me you're talking to. We've been good, actually. In spite of time and our large families and separate residences."

Scarlett sipped her red wine, wondering how it is that she's friends with the bloke who took her man...then reminded herself the relationship had imploded before yon wizened but hearty king came back into the picture. She got along better with Jimmy now than she did in the last months of their relationship, as he called her every so often to check on her, and worried over her career still. He continued to push her work on his social media pages, which he was well over 70 by now and past petty foolishness.

"Robert," she said after a comfortable silence had fallen between them. "I think I would like to help chronicle you both."

"Jimmy's been doing a good job at that already," Robert said, now finished with his plate and ready to relax a bit.

"I don't mean the official Zeppelin story. I'm talking about, ah, the two of you." She held his quizzical gaze, face impassive. She had a long, graceful neck, cheekbones to die for, large, deep hazel eyes that seemed wise beyond her years. Aesthetically, Robert could see why Jimmy was attracted to her.

"The records, enough of them at any rate, are out there for those interested to read if they want. You know how I feel about most journalists and established media."

"I know," she rolled those great dark eyes at him. "But I want others to understand, I think yours is a beautiful story, one that needs telling, even if it weren't through official channels."

He tossed that greying lion's mane, curls bouncing, eyes bright with mirth. "What if I don't trust you? Why should I?"

"If I tried to screw you over, it would be said I'm just a jealous gold digging ex girlfriend. You could play that card." She continued to hold his gaze.

If Robert were a younger man and she hadn't just broke up with Jimmy, he'd have welcomed the idea of a sexy lady staring at him like that. He'd have her shagged until next Tuesday by tonight. But he wasn't young and dumb anymore, and she was Jimmy's ex. "True. Yet Jimmy and I never wanted it to be too laid out, too easy. It should take time and care and an open mind to see the Truth."

"It'd be a shame if the Truth were lost to the ages."

"You're a woman after Jimmy's heart. I shouldn't be surprised. Oddly enough, I'm not opposed to the idea."

They basked in the relaxation of a full stomach and pleasant atmosphere, then Scarlett said, "Robert, something happened when you came to Tower House. Something changed, and I don't mean between me and Jimmy. I dreamed...of a different reality. More than one, really."

Robert put down his glass, shock on that weathered but attractive face. "What realities?"

"One I saw Jimmy in a hospital bed, with a stroke I think."

"And the other one?" The singer barely got out.

"You...you died, Robert. Or were so severely ill you couldn't move or speak. And Jimmy was crying as he held you…" her dark eyes filled with emotion as she spoke. "I know it happened. I know, Robert. And when I awoke the next day you're both fine, but you did something, some sort of magick, to keep those things from happening. I know I'm not crazy."

He tried to hide it, but the awe and surprise were written on his face. "You've participated in rituals with him, haven't you?"

She nodded.

"We...made some choices," he said carefully. "Ones that can bring consequences, though this time I think the Fates smile upon us. But I don't understand how you'd know…" Robert's eyes widened. "You must really love him. And he did the sex ritual with you, didn't he?"

Scarlett nodded, her own eyes growing larger in her face. Of course, she thought, he would've done that with the enduring love of his life.

Robert felt a twinge of jealousy, which almost never happened. He wasn't the jealous type, always free with his love and affection and never begrudged even Jimmy his extra sexual proclivities, but he liked to think the sex magick ritual was something special between them. "Something happened to you, then, during the ritual."

"Yes, it did. I think...well here," she reached across the table and grasped Robert's hand, and he suddenly saw Jimmy through her eyes, his Jimmy, with helpers it seems, during the Holy Act. Jimmy, silver hair shimmering around his narrow shoulders, ivory bare skin, still with that perfect posture, long legs, though the flesh was more slack with age, more weathered. His Jimmy, pleasuring Scarlett slowly, methodically, working her toward Enlightenment as had been done to Robert many years before. Another figure appears in the vision more than the other person acting as an aide, a woman, a strawberry blonde in her 50s it seems, who lovingly stimulated Scarlett as the poet's slim body was carried by the others to a bed. Three pairs of hands and mouths then roamed over that freckled, pert body as Jimmy crawled nimbly over her, still moves like a young man Robert remarks to himself, Jimmy then enters her slowly, begins moving. 

Scarlett withdrew her hand, ending the flash of images in Robert's head. "How did…" he trailed off, aware he was now half-hard and glad of the tablecloth.

"We're connected through him. He's the anchor, the one who's opened up these forces, whatever you wanna call it."

"Does that happen when you touch anyone?"

"No. Just those Jimmy has a bond with, is connected to somehow. After the Ritual sometimes when I touched him, I saw you, through his eyes, when you were younger. God, you were magnificent. Tender sunshine that was clothed in human flesh, wrapped in pure sex."

"I was, wasn't I?" Robert agreed without conceit, just like he was talking about the weather. "But I can see how that would make things...eh, awkward."

"I knew how he felt about you, for sure now," Scarlett said, the pain rife in her voice. "You have such hold on him, even after years apart."

Robert sighed, then his mind began picking up a thread of thought. He did the sacred ritual, initiated Scarlett, as though to start anew, connect with someone...had he been trying to exorcise his connection with Robert? To forget him, and forge something with her? Even though they promised their love would never change. Why? This was something he couldn't wrap his mind around at the moment. He swallowed, mouth dry, mind racing. "I'm, I'm sorry, I've got to go," he stammered, and stood up, grateful the half stiffy was gone now.

"Robert, I didn't mean to upset you," pleaded Scarlett. "I just wanted you to know that some powers are at work, that we're all a part of." She followed him, bounding quickly to match his long stride as he made it to the lobby. "I'm secondary to your place in his heart, Robert. He was trying to fill a hole only you can fill."

Robert breathed deeply, in and out, his heart pounding. "He was..he wanted to erase me," he spoke, surprise and hurt in his tone. He fumbled for his wallet, paid for the meal in a daze amid Scarlett hovering around him trying to reassure him.

"I gotta leave, I gotta..ah, I must go. And think," he said in finality, and left Scarlett on the sidewalk blinking back tears. Oh, now she'd done it. Not for the first time she cursed magic and anything to do with it, and Jimmy for opening that door. And lastly, herself for possibly dooming a love as a poet she'd always written and read about but had never witnessed firsthand until now.


	2. A Little Rain Must Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angst, ANGST lol. Some things unsaid for so long come out.
> 
> Robert and Jimmy do love each other, but man the complications. They're both stubborn, too.
> 
> Also TERRY FUCKING REID bahahaha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious guitarist says some things he's been holding in for years. Was he really trying to forget his love for Robert?

Latter Days 2

2

Robert somehow drove himself to Tower House without crashing, used his own code and key to enter, to not bother the groundskeeper. Jimmy hadn't made it back from his speech, he found. Robert wandered those corridors alone, the shadows of the deepening evening making him strangely want to dart furtively from shadow to shadow. He still was shocked at Jimmy, hurt, baffled as to why he'd do such a thing, then turn around and accept Robert back into his life with open arms. 

The Stag Lord had always assumed the Raven Priest would always be ready and waiting for him, would never stop carrying the torch, be a refuge whenever the Hunter was tired of journeying and needed security and love. It stung in a way Robert had never felt before, that it didn't seem to be the case. The singer suddenly felt old, beaten, tired down to his bones. He went to the master bedroom he shared with Jimmy when he was in, stripped to his underwear, and crawled into bed.

Robert had dozed off when the rustling of someone moving around in the room brought him conscious. Moonlight poured through one of the windows, laying cold light on the silver hair of the one undressing in front of the carved wooden wardrobe. Shirtless, he turned to find Robert regarding him silently. "I thought you were asleep, I didn't want to wake you," Jimmy spoke in that soft, Surrey accent, the voice so unassuming.

"I was just resting. Jimmy, come here."

Immediately sensing something was wrong (he was a wizard, after all) he sat in bed beside Robert, who was now sitting up on the edge of the bed.

"I had dinner with Scarlett earlier," Robert began after some time. 

Worried, the older man wanted to know if something had happened to her.

"No, nothing like that," Robert shook his head, the mussed curls bouncing with the movement. "I learned that you did the sex magick ritual with her, what it did to her. When she...touches someone touched by you."

"Ah," Jimmy said, then swallowed, his face dropping further.

"What were you thinking? That was for us. Us! Why would you...what made you want to forget me like that?" Robert's voice broke, tears finally coming, working their way down his deeply lined face. "You Promised, Jim. To the Gods."

"Rob, no, it wasn't like that," Jimmy declared. "I was hurting, I was desperate, I just wanted to feel. Just feel a connection, a deepness, that you weren't willing to give at the time. It wasn't against you, Robert, please!" 

The singer had recoiled from Jimmy when he tried to touch his shoulder, rage sparking from those stormy eyes. "Even after you hurt me deeply more than once, left me to grieve lost loved ones alone more than once, I never wanted to forget you! Never once did I ever try to banish you from my heart or mind."

"No, you'd just run the fuck away!" Jimmy found himself snarling, having never dealt with these feelings. "You can wander all over the world, play music to camels in the desert or whatever strikes your fancy that day, knowing nobody will tell you what a selfish prick you are! Then when you're tired and the pussy doesn't work for you anymore you come to me, to, to bind your wounds and give everything to you, fill you up, then you're off again!"

They both stared at one another after the tirade, both stunned, speechless. "You never told me any of this," Robert at last spoke into the injured silence, his voice carefully even. He wiped his face and sniffed. "Your behavior over the years makes a little more sense now. So that's what you think of me. No wonder you wanted to bind to her and erase me."

"I don't, and I didn't!" the guitarist tries to explain. He couldn't find the words to convince Robert he wasn't trying to forget him.

Robert stood, his mouth working but unable to speak. "I wouldn't have kept doing that if I knew it hurt you so. You were, you closed yourself off, the only emotion I got from you for so long was during sex."

Jimmy chuckled bitterly. "No. You can't change who you are, my love, any more than I can tell a sunbeam where to shine." He stood, gazed into his husband's face, so dear, so beloved. "So now, after I have you at last, you'll run away again. Mauritania, Texas, Bombay, maybe."

"I told you I wouldn't do that, and I meant it," Robert says quietly. "But I need some time. I need to think."

"You're going to fuck Scarlett, aren't you?" Jimmy snorted, then clenched his jaw.

"Damn, Jimmy, that's low. I have no intentions on the unexpected third party to our relationship."

"No, you've never used sex that way. It wouldn't be to hurt me. But I know you, Planty."

Robert made his way to the door, tossing over his shoulder, "You don't know everything, oh great and powerful wizard. Enjoy sleeping alone." Robert took a guest bedroom, crawled into the unused bed, boneless, and tumbled into slumber almost instantly.

The older man lay awake in the enormous bed for a long while, face wet with tears he hadn't wiped away. The moon lent her watery light to the bedroom, lighting the sad, old, beautiful face.

Robert was up and at 'em fairly early the next morning which was typical of him, and was rummaging in the kitchen when Jimmy appeared in a robe, hair sticking out in every direction and eyes red.

"You look like hell," observed Robert as he put a kettle on for tea. 

"I'm a miserable old man, you twat."

"A right bastard, you are," agreed Robert. 

"You're leaving. Not for good, but you're going," Jimmy didn't mean for his tone to be so accusatory.

"I have to sort things out in me head," Robert responded. "But I'm not gonna run away as you say." He soon had eggs, sausages, toast, mushrooms made and divided into two plates, and handed one to Jimmy.

He poured tea into cups for himself and his companion, and they went to the little table in the breakfast nook and sat enjoying their beverage and food. To be such a wild hippie child who always kept moving, he could make himself at home most anywhere, Jimmy thought. He cooked, he cleaned, he could shoe a horse, befriend any person or animal with seeming ease. He could also without malice wound your beating heart, handling it with eager but clumsy fingers, and still, Jimmy would love him.

When Robert went to the bedroom to change his clothes, Jimmy followed him and pulled at a long arm, yanked that untamed lion to him. "I love you," the guitarist said simply. 

Blue eyes stared into green ones. "I love you, Pagey. Let me...let me go. I will be back. I Promise."

Sighing, the guitarist loosened his hand on Robert's arm, and went up to his studio to busy himself. He looked out the window as Robert's car left the courtyard, and silence descended upon the residence. After all they did for each other, risked health and life to use magick to save one another, changed reality itself, now because of both their foolishness things are fucked sideways yet again.

Robert started to leave London, but something tugged at him. He pulled over for a moment and dialed someone on his cell, that infernal machine he mostly found a nuisance.

"Hello?" a warm, raspy voice answered.

"Hi, Terry?"

"Percy! How are ya?"

"To be honest, Ter, not great," Robert says to his roommate from decades ago.

"I was just having meself some tea. What's wrong, then? Is it Pagey?"

"He's fine as far as that," Robert said. "It's just--he's done something to hurt me. This time really bad."

"God, you two," Terry Reid snorted. "Did he marry the redheaded youngster?"

"No, but something like that."

"That magic nonsense?"

Robert sighed. "Yeh. Again, something like that."

Terry took a moment to reflect on the two musical hooligans he'd known most of his life, had much respect and affection for. "Man, if he hasn't called up the Devil yet, then you can forgive him if you really want to. You two are ballsmacking nuts over each other. A blind man could see you nutters was made for one another. Ya need to get the fuck over yourselves. Now it's back to me tea."

The phone clicks off.

Such a philosopher, was Terry. Robert adored him, just not in _that_ way. He was also the first bloke Jimmy had flirted with, only to be rebuffed. Terry knew the both of them and so was uniquely suited to make observations about the relationship. Was Terry right? Was it pride keeping them apart now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much drama for two old, wizened lovers. Who else thinks they're precious, though?
> 
> As always, kudos, story ideas, comments welcome! Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy.


	3. Love Under Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Terry Reid lol.
> 
> Realizations occur, revelations are achieved.
> 
> M/F complications hahaha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bless Terry Reid.

Latter Days 2

3

Still hurting and confused, Robert scrolled through his contacts and hit send.

"Hello, Scarlett?"

"Hi, Robert. Are you all right?" Worry tinted her voice. 

"Not--not really," he answered, fighting to keep his voice normal. 

"How is Jimmy?"

"I left him at Tower House. He was in his studio. We've broken each other this time, I think."

Pause. Then, "Robert, I think you should come over. Don't try to drive all the way home yet. I don't know how Jimmy will take you leaving again." She gave him the address to her flat, and he breathed in, breathed out, got back on the road to head there.

Poor Terry Reid was sipping the last of his tea when the phone rang again. He scratched his greying head and those sharp, pale eyes scanned the screen to find it was, surprise, surprise, Jimmy Page. "Pagey, you cunt," Terry said without preamble, but amiably. "Guess who I was talking to but scant few minutes before?"

"Planty, I'm betting," was Jimmy's nasally voice answering.

"Right."

"What did he tell you?"

"Just that you went and did something stupid and I've never heard him so torn up."

"He sounded that bad, did he?" Page asked, his guts twisting. "Terry, I'm starting to think we're just not...that we're bad for each other. I always let him come and go into my life and it hurts more and more."

"Jimmy, you boys are too stiff-necked. Love is hard sometimes, ya daft geezer. I can tell neither of ya is really happy unless you're together. Now stop fucking around and love that pretty, royal pain in the ass when he comes back to you. And he will. Now, sod off, I got things to do. And leave that magic shite alone"

Connection ends. 

Heh, that Terry fucking Reid, thought Jimmy. He'd kiss him if he knew he wouldn't get slapped. Maybe he was overcomplicating things.

"This is cozy," said Robert as Scarlett let him into her residence that she was still getting used to. Beautiful paintings and sculptures adorned every room, each chamber, just like Jimmy's houses, having a theme. 

She herself was clad in loose skirt and frilly top, the cloth billowing as she moved her lanky frame. Her hair was in a single loose braid, with red strands curling around her face.

"Come to my office," she invited, leading him to a room where it appeared she did a lot of her writing. It was comfortable, peaceful, with a computer desk, writing desk, some easels and stools where she painted, some overstuffed chairs to lounge in. "I was finishing up some emails to publishers if you wanna have a seat," and before she'd finished the sentence Robert had flopped himself into one of the comfy chairs, with the lack of grace and bonelessness of a child, and sprawled unselfconsciously, glancing around the room.

She shook her head and returned to the computer desk, and began typing. "You're a modern day Renaissance woman," he said. Coming from anyone else it would've seemed sarcastic, but he was just being Robert. 

"Glad your lordship approves," she jibed, smiling as she worked. When she finished, she swiveled the office chair to eyeball him. "You were hard on him." A statement, like she already knew.

"I kinda was," Robert admitted. "We've wounded as much as we've loved."

"You need to go back to him. Stay with him," she urged. 

"I really should hate you, girl," Robert sighed. "But I don't, and I don't know if I can go back."

She got up and approached where he was sitting, and he sat up from his slouch to look up at her. "Then tell him it's done, and you won't be back," she says brutally. "Keep going, going, until you drop, but it'll be without tormenting him."

He gaped at her; this was so like what Robert had told Jimmy about her. "I can't," he whispered. She knelt beside his chair, raised her hand and asked, "May I?" He nodded, and she laid her hand on his bare forearm.

He was seeing through Scarlett's eyes again, this time when she came upon Jimmy sorting through old pictures from Zeppelin days, and she peered over his shoulder to see it was a photo of Robert and him together. Robert's arm was around his shoulders, both smiling broadly. There were tears on the guitarist's face when he turned to her, and he wiped them quickly away. Then Robert Saw through Jimmy's eyes, saw how through the 80s he had started to write so many letters to Robert, some more formal, others pouring his heart out, but he never sent any of them. They were poignant and beautiful, and Robert thought he could've been Led Zeppelin's sole lyricist if he'd wanted. Then it switched again, this time Showing him through Jimmy's eyes, when the mighty Zeppelin was in flight, when they were young. Jimmy looked at Robert with lust and desire but such love, always such love. Jimmy was trying to recapture what he felt with Robert, with someone else since he felt abandoned, not to negate what Robert shared with him, but to alleviate the emptiness.

He saw Jimmy's hands on his young, sleek body, removing clothes, kissing him, running those fine hands over tanned skin. Jimmy reached for his lover's cock, stroking him, kissing him deeply, it was like he was in Jimmy's body, sharing the sensations and what he saw. Jimmy went down, enclosed Robert's member in his eager mouth. Scarlett moaned and removed her hand from Robert's arm, her pupils dilated in desire.

Robert breathed deeply and slowly, trying to process the implications of what he'd witnessed. "You're wiser than your years. And kind. Thank you."

"Do you see now? How you're joined?"

He nodded solemnly. "What happens if I touch you?" He asked.

"Nothing, as far as I know," she replied, then squeaked as Robert took hold under her arms and hauled her bodily onto his lap, over the arm of the chair. He laid his hand on her angular face, and no images happened. A lot of other things did though, namely the man pulling her closer to kiss her, and the desire from the Seeing spilling over the both of them.

"Robert," she managed to say when they parted. "We can't...not with Jimmy alone now…"

"He knows I'm coming back. He knew already I think. I need.." 

She groaned as his hand slid deftly up her blouse to lightly touch her stomach, along her side up and down, all as he left kisses along that long, graceful neck. She didn't protest when he cupped a small, firm breast, palming her nipple, feeling it harden.

Later, she dozed in her small but comfortable bed, her head on a wide chest, her ear hearing that strong heartbeat, wondered idly who was this, this body longer and fleshier than Jimmy's, long arm thrown across her waist, in languorous contentment, and slowly became more aware of who she'd just fucked in a magickal haze. She lifted her head to look at the kingly face of Robert, her ex's love. She tentatively touched his shoulder, found no images or feelings invading her head this time. "Are you yourself again?" she wondered.

"Yes," he answered. "Are you...ok?"

"Strangely, yes. I think I may be able to sleep at night now."

"Good. Because you're coming back with me."

"Say what?" She sputtered.

****

[Just because it never gets old](http://fav.me/ddzbhjt)  
[Jimmy](http://fav.me/de0i93d)  
[who needs clothes? Not this guy](http://fav.me/de0kqbr)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was sudden and unexpected, lol. Don't know how this is gonna work out.
> 
> Stay safe everyone! Gimme kudos, cheetohs, whatever ya got lol.


	4. The Phil Collins Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert and Scarlett buddies now..?..
> 
> Mini story time!
> 
> And what is going on at Tower House?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Phil Collins Thing.

Scarlett got in the tub to take a quick shower, which Robert ran out to his car to get a change of clothes. She was in the middle of rinsing her waist-length hair when a large, lanky frame leaped into the showerbath with her. "Jesus Christ, Robert!" she cried, clutching her heart. He immediately began lathering as she caught her breath. "You know, this feels weirder and more intimate than, ah--" 

"Us shagging our brains out in a magic induced frenzy?" Robert finished. "Kill two birds with one stone, dear."

"Did you wear clothes when you popped out on the street?"

"Ahhh..."

"Robert!"

"I was quick," he responded.

"How has Jimmy not murdered you by now?" she wondered honestly, watching him wash and shake himself just like a dog would stand under a water hose.

"I ask myself the same thing at times."

Scarlett shook her head, finished rinsing, and asked herself how she ended up the meat in a weird old rock star sandwich, and not for the first or last time. If he could get away with it, he'd probably never wear clothing, not that even at his age she'd mind. He was soft around the middle now, with some loose skin on his long, muscled arms, the grooves of experience carved on his still-attractive face, the hair he'd let begin to go grey, but the lean young man, gangly in his youth, was still there, along with the mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes. She stepped out and dried off amid Robert crooning something under his breath. Despite being known for his air raid siren screams in Led Zeppelin he had a warm, honeyed lower range that leant itself well to ballads.

She was dressing as he exited the shower, like an old, still hale lion leaving the stream he'd been playing in. "So Robert," she began. "When are you gonna tell me about the Phil Collins Thing?"

"There's not much to tell, really," Robert replied as he towel dried his wet mop of curls.

"Not according to the way Jimmy acts," the poet persisted. "He seems to despise him."

Robert giggled. "Yeah."

"Ok it's that or I start talking about what Jimmy's said about David Coverdale."

"You bitch! You would," he cried, but with some mirth. "You hit low. All right, fine, Phil and I had our thing together. It started out professional, he was starting to get really big and he idolized Bonzo and wanted to work with me. I probably wouldn't have had much of a solo career if it weren't for him helping with my first two solo albums, and then playing drums when I did tour for my second album."

"And?"

Robert sighed as he threaded his long legs into his trousers. "Ok, so there was a party we were all at after this little stint I did for my first record, I didn't tour as I couldn't bring myself to play any Zeppelin songs as yet, the pain was still too fresh.."

Story time!

The club was fairly large, but full of musicians, artists, industry people and hangers-on, and Robert was in a full-on haze, a last hurrah before kicking cocaine for good, and he didn't remember what-all he'd ingested. He vaguely remembered cocaine, marijuana, and alcohol, but there had to be some hallucinogens in there somewhere as he seemed to be swimming across the floor instead of walking. He'd cut his hair, which disappointed a lot of people, with his relentless curls forming a mass of messy bangs on the top of his head. He didn't care; he was ready to shed the image of the overblown rock star. He'd waited around for Jimmy, who'd said he was going to be there, as he'd been feeling like he wanted a good shag with the man he still loved even though there was much disgust and resentment there.

Disgust at Jimmy still in the throes of a massive heroin addiction, resentment from the way Jimmy had handled the death of Robert's son Karac and then Bonzo's untimely death. 

Which is to say, leaving Robert to work through his grief alone, as Jimmy had no idea how to deal with the loss or trying to help someone through such a loss. They'd met at different places and times since then, furtively snatching sexual encounters and crying sessions when they could. 

Now it seems that Page couldn't be bothered to come to see him, probably holed up somewhere on smack, Robert thought, as coherently as he could at the time given how smashed he himself was. People were laughing, there were girls floating about, some of whom were at least mildly interesting to him, but he needed action, and not from a stranger. Phil had stumbled, also inebriated, across someone's foot and latched onto the long arm of Robert who looked down at the much smaller man who was looking back up at him with those big eyes in that round face.

So Robert gathered him up and pressed his lips on the drummer's lips. The shorter man tensed in Robert's arms, wriggled a bit, but found how strong the singer truly was, and insistent. After a moment Phil melted in his arms and kissed him back, with other partiers blitzed out their heads laughing and cheering. The drummer then threaded his arms around Robert's neck as the kiss intensified.

Aaaaaand that's when Jimmy had arrived on the scene and spotted the pair. He himself wasn't well physically or mentally, and shall we say, sobriety-challenged, at the time. When Robert finally released Phil he looked the worse for wear but still happy about the whole thing, and continued holding onto the taller man to steady him.

Jimmy couldn't believe Robert couldn't wait more than an hour for him, the man he's supposed to love and made vows before the Gods to, before jumping into another man's arms. Enraged, Jimmy made his way through the throng and began yelling at Robert as soon as he got close.

"J-Jimmy?" slurred Robert, squinting at the guitarist. "You finally made it."

"Indeed I did, to find you tongue-raping that shriveled toad!" Jimmy shrieked.

"Izzat Jimmy?" mumbled the drummer. "Hey, hey man, sorry..."

"Shut up!" Jimmy spat at poor Phil. "I see how it is, then."

"Look, Jimjam--"

"Don't you, don't you Jimjam me, you walking hardon!"

"He's really mad," pointed out Phil unnecessarily, but at this stage of inebriation, what can you do?

"Jimmeee, it's just a bit of fun! Come, hey, come on," Robert continued to slur. "We can go back to me hotel, it's just a couple blocks down..."

"You guys go on, don't *hic* let me get in the way," Phil swayed, and Robert pulled him against his lanky frame to keep him from faceplanting.

"Shut up!" Robert and Jimmy said together, leaving a sad-faced drummer with puppy dog eyes.

"And he's not a shriveled toad," Robert continued. "He's been--"

"Using you, more like," hissed Jimmy.

"He's been more sup-supportive than you, you old smacked out hack!"

And that's when Jimmy caught Robert in a right hook. 

Robert was so hopped up on his cocktail of chemicals he really didn't feel anything, other than the floor tilting as his and Phil's bodies met it harshly. Jimmy stomped off. Robert and Phil made out some more at the club before retiring back at Robert's hotel room and having some slovenly drunken high friend-sex, if that's a thing.

"And you insisted Phil Collins play at the Live Aid Zeppelin reunion," marveled Scarlett. "The balls on you. Were you and he still..?"

"Yeah I continued to carry on with Phil for a bit after that, but our schedules and lives became too much for us to see each other much. Oh, don't look at me like that. It's not like Pagey didn't bang Jeff Beck or probably even Paul Rodgers on the regular in the 80's. I think we both ended up nailing Steve Marriott again. Different times, off course."

Scarlett finished brushing her hair and said, "You bunch of--of manwhores!"

Robert gave her a look as he was putting on his shoes that said, duh, rock stars. "I might tell you about the special initiation once you've been picked for my band back in the day."

Her eyes grew big.

"Kidding! Just kidding," he stood and they headed out the door to his car. "Mostly."

As they were heading toward Jimmy's house, Robert looked over at the redhead in the passenger's seat. "So what's he been saying?"

"Hm?"

"Jimmy. About the other chap."

"God, just drive! You two," Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest and tried to stifle a grin. "And men say us women are catty."

They entered the front door at Tower House but could find no Jimmy waiting for them. 

Something was wrong. The pair began calling his name and searching the rooms when Scarlett heard some thumping and a muffled voice. She alerted and met up with Robert and they found the noise grew louder as they approached one of the smaller, back bedrooms. The opened the door to find the Master of Tower House naked, bound hands and feet to the bed, and gagged. "What in the hell?" shrieked Scarlett, who ran to untie him on one side while Robert did the other.

"Get out!" Jimmy gasped. "They're still here!"

"Who?" questioned Robert.

"The intruders! They're here for my rare Crowley stuff! They'll do anything!"

"Why are you naked?" asked Scarlett.

****  
[Just because I love Steve](http://fav.me/de08ipl)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed a bit of silliness but things have taken a serious and possibly dangerous turn. 
> 
> Kudos, comments etc welcome!


	5. Trouble at Tower House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the past comes back and bites you in the ass.
> 
> Some shit going down this evening. In the eeeeeevening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, spaghettios!

"That's a good question, with a great answer, but right now I'm going to the Inner Sanctum and protecting my things," Jimmy evaded, while rubbing his wrists. He grabs some pants and a shirt out of the wardrobe and throws them on his thin frame. 

"You're not going after some thieves by yourself," Robert declares, noticing the marks on Jimmy's alabaster skin. Someone wasn't gentle with him, old and frail as he would appear to most.

"Jimmy, who is it? How many are there?" questioned Scarlet, who had grabbed the hand of the man she still loved.

She saw who the intruders were through Jimmy's eyes--"Madame Peg," Scarlett breathed. One of the Aides at her sex magick ritual, a fiftysomething Anglo-French magician with designs on an English lordship and Jimmy's priceless Crowley artifiacts, including a first draft of a book he'd written that was never released, and a journal of spellbooks that the majority of the world knew nothing about, that was in Jimmy's possession.

"Who's Madame Peg?" wondered Robert.

"Margaret Des Champs, well-versed in Thelema and apparently a fucking snake," Jimmy hissed as he took off toward the bottom of the estate, the bowels, where he his his most precious magick articles. The other two, terrified and worried for him, were close on his heels. "There's a lackey I know of with her," Jimmy whispered as they made their way. "A brute named Mark, though he wasn't the one who whipped me. She was."

Scarlett glanced over at Robert to find he had murder in his eyes, which were the color of a stormy sky now.

"Here now," barked a voice, and an arm emerged from the shadows to clutch at Jimmy. "Didn't we leave you trussed up like a Christmas goose?" The rest of the man emerged from the darkness into the dim light of the corridor, and he was huge and muscular. Sandy hair, dark eyes, and hands like a vise around Jimmy's upper arms. He didn't account for Robert coming up behind and piledriving his laborer's fist into Mark's craggy face. He released Jimmy and sputtered "Oh, you! Well come on, old geezer!"

Scarlett screamed, knowing how strong Robert was he was much older than the other man, and not as massive. The pair grappled, trying to get a good angle to strike the other in the enclosed space. Jimmy grabbed a little curio shelf that was mostly for decoration and brought it crashing down on the thug's head. He STILL didn't go down, but began staggering, wobbly on his feet now. Scarlett saw her chance and kicked him in the ass, sending him facefirst to the floor groaning. "Somebody should keep an eye on him," the guitarist said.

"Fuck that, I'm coming with you guys," Scarlett announced. She took Jimmy's hand, then with her other grasped Robert's as they moved toward the secret room. This wasn't lost on Jimmy, who pursed his lips but said nothing.

"This way," Jimmy pulled his companions along, till they reached the door to the Inner Sanctum, which Jimmy had as a part of the estate's security system. Peg was there, stamping her high heeled foot in frustration. Her strawberry blonde hair was piled on top of her head in an elaborate updo, clad in a long billowy dress.

"I was sure I had it! The combination!" she squawked in a mixture of English and French accent. She noticed the trio enter the room and screamed at them. "Stay back! I'll set this whole place on fire!" she held up the lighter, and pointed where she had poured gasoline over some of the books that didn't make it to the extra protection of the secret room.

"Don't do it, Peg," Jimmy tells her. "You'd never make it up and out of here in time."

"Won't I?"

"Why do this?" demanded Scarlett, embarrassed that such a one had pleasured her during the Ritual.

"Why? Why not?," she asked, her voice shrilly. "Some of the most powerful magickal items, things written by Crowley himself that we thought was lost to time, but no. No! This pathetic, sniveling old man holds them. I plan to use them, can you imagine what a true user like me would be able to accomplish? And not only that, but my older sister Kit was in love with you, and you used her and cast her aside. You left her mind broken, and she joined a convent. She wore herself out doing charity and helping the poor, and was buried much too soon in a pauper's grave. Because of you. You!"

"Kit? I remember a Kit Dearbourne. Of course she didn't use her real name." Jimmy held his hands up in a placating gesture and spoke quietly. "Peg. I never meant to hurt her or you, she wasn't well. She was already addicted when I was with her, and I'm sorry I got her wrapped up in the lifestyle even further. I tried to send her away but she wouldn't have any of it. I had to get mean. I'm sorry."

"She was still a child!" snarled the distraught, disturbed woman. Everyone's eyes were on the lighter she clutched loosely in her hand. "Now, put the code in and unlock this room for me."

Jimmy reluctantly stepped forward, hands still out where she could see them, when Robert dove for Peg's hand with the lighter. There was a struggle and it was pitched into the air. Four pairs of eyes fixated on the lighter coming down towards all their dooms, when Scarlett got her shit together, darted forward and caught it, closing it to stifle the flame. The sorceress screamed and raked her nails across Robert's face, so he instinctively socked her right in the chin. Needless to say, she dropped like a sack of bricks. "Well damn, I just hit a woman," Robert said regretfully.

"She's a barmy twat," Jimmy put in.

"Yeah but, I don't hit women," Robert said. He felt really bad about it. He knelt and rolled the insane broad over to check her; she was breathing but would probably have trouble chewing for a few days.

"I'm calling the damn police," declared Scarlett, but her phone hit the stone floor with a clack.

Mark was holding Scarlett, her slender body flailing as her feet were lifted off the ground. Blood poured down his face from a large gash, and he was absolutely livid. "There, now. I'd hate to have to break her," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was wild! I didn't even know that was gonna happen, lol.
> 
> How you guys doing?


	6. Trouble at Tower House part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's ultra dramatic and action-y!
> 
> Will our heroes survive??
> 
> Some M/M somewhere or other.

Mark shook Scarlett like she weighed nothing, eliciting pained squeals from her. 

"Here, now, just take it easy," Jimmy tried to placate him. "You don't have to do anything drastic."

Mark set the poet's feet back on the floor but a big, meaty hand slid to her throat while the other pinned one of her skinny arms behind her back, with him standing behind her. "You, ya has-been singer, step back. You got a mean right arm, so stay the fuck back there. Anyone moves unless I tell 'em to, I snap her scrawny neck." Robert reluctantly obeyed.

Scarlett and Jimmy locked eyes, wide hazel ones, terrified, looking into green ones that were also terrified. Mark pushed the woman towards the electronically sealed door and demanded she put the code in, to which she told him she didn't know it; nobody but Jimmy ever entered it. The thug began yelling, Robert yelled back and Jimmy appeared as if he was going to burst into tears any second.

"Hold it right there!" commanded an authoritative voice, and the room was suddenly filled with police, their guns trained on the massive man, whose head was still pouring scarlet. "It's over, let the lady go and step away with your hands up!" the leader ordered. There was a tense few seconds where the goon weighed his options and decided discretion was the better part of valor, and pushed Scarlett from him. She fell into Jimmy's arms, buried her face in his wavy silver hair sobbing.

Mark was cuffed and taken away, and the first responders carried the as yet unconscious Margaret Des Champs out on a stretcher, but once cleared it would be to the jail with her. The three had to give statements to investigators, where Robert learned that if a wrong code was put in more than three times, a silent alarm was sent to the closest police dispatch, and they had responded after Peg was unable to breach the security.

Scarlett, Jimmy and Robert were then taken to hospital as a precaution, where Robert's action hand and wrist was bandaged but he was otherwise unscathed. Delicate, slender Scarlett's arm had nearly been twisted out of socket so she was given a sling, and Jimmy was treated for whip cuts and abrasions from being bound. By the time they answered more police questions and were discharged from the hospital it was nighttime. Jimmy's personal assistant drove them home, after noting dryly that Madame Peg was wily enough to make her move when staff and helpers weren't around, as they only came in a few days a week. Jimmy liked silence and privacy.

They all settled in one of the living rooms, each taking a sofa with Robert claiming the largest couch to flop in, on his back, and groan. His whole arm was sore by now. "Getting old isn't for the weak," he said to no one in particular.

"You didn't get flogged, love," Jimmy shot back, slouched in a white-haired little pile.

"Speaking of which," piped up Scarlett, who was draped across her own sofa, her arm still in the soft sling. "How did you end up naked and whipped?"

Jimmy groaned.

"Out with it, mate," Robert said.

"All right, so you know I'd known Madame Margaret for some time, though I didn't know about her sister and secret plan to destroy me and take all my shit."

"Yeah," responded Scarlett.

"She shows up pretending to be upset and that she'd had some vision so I'm thinking it's about you, so I let her in. Then she tells me it wasn't about Scarlett but someone she knows but she has nobody else she can talk to about these things."

"Let me guess: you thought banging her would help her feel better," Robert surmised.

"No! Well, later on yes. Who's telling the story?" Jimmy says indignantly. "Anyway, I get us some tea and she put something in it, not to knock me out but make me loopy and compliant, when my back was turned. So then she's doing the boo-hooing and we made out and somehow I end up in that bedroom naked--"

"Same day I leave and everything," Robert snorts.

"Do you mind?" Jimmy snaps. "You've had your dick in 75% of the world's population. So she's wanting to do some kinky things, starting with tying me up. I knew something was wrong but I couldn't seem to really fight her when she got insistent. I caught a stab of darkness from her mind and knew what she was after and struggled a little more. She was prepared it seems, as she had a cord she flogged me with until I stopped moving and she finished tying me up. I lay there while she let in her minion and they searched the house, and I became more clear headed. And then you both arrived and you know the rest."

"Only you, Jimmy," sighed Scarlett. "Get molested, robbed and nearly burned to death in the same day.

"I'm surprised the loon didn't take pictures of me splayed out," Jimmy shuddered. "She took out my hair tie and arranged my hair and everything like a work of art. I think I know how Robert felt in his younger days."

"Hah! Now you see how it feels."

"Try being a woman, boys," countered Scarlett.

"She's got a point," Jimmy admitted.

"Yeah," agreed Robert. 

"Scarlett," Jimmy said, more seriously. "You can stay here if you like, and go back tomorrow. It's late and we've had a full day, to put it mildly."

She yawned. "I could sleep right here. My arm hurts and I don't think I can get up."

At a look from the guitarist, Robert scooped her up, minding his sore hand, and took her to one of the guest bedrooms. They were all on some mild painkillers but it was hitting her pretty hard, as Robert noted she hardly weighed anything at all. Jimmy helped his husband carefully deposit the already dozing girl into the bed, still in her clothes, and covered her up. Waves and waves of thick red hair lay all around her, framing that sharp-angled but feminine face. Both men studied her for a bit before slipping quietly out, closing the door behind them.

"She's beautiful," Robert said as they retreated to the master bedroom.

"I know," Jimmy agreed crossly. "She was my girlfriend, you know." 

They entered the bedroom, and Jimmy turned to Robert once the door was shut. "I know you fucked her, Robert. I can usually tell. I'm not even as mad as I thought I'd be."

"Jimmy, about that--"

"Why'd you bring her back here, with you? When you know we were over?"

"Because something told me to. Something I Saw when she touched me. Jimmy...can't you see? She's a part of this. A part of...us."

The guitarist stared hard at the singer, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "Are you saying you want her to be with us?"

Robert nodded. Nothing could ever take the place of Jimmy for him, but Scarlett had came back for Jimmy, would've laid down her life for him. Robert felt a growing affection and respect for her, and they were connected through Jimmy and through enjoying each others' bodies.

"Robert, I don't know if that can work, and that's besides the point of her actually agreeing to such a relationship, which she hasn't," Jimmy pointed out.

"So we ask her. Her gift has shown me how much she loves you, and how much you love me. Jimmy, I'm, well, I'm falling for her stubborn ass too."

Jimmy groaned and rolled his emerald eyes. "We can talk to her about it in the morning, then. I'm ready for bed." He slipped out of the shirt and stepped out of his trousers. Robert felt a wave of rage at Peg when he saw the bandaged wounds all over the older man, the marks on his wrists and ankles, as he made his way stiffly to the bed.

Robert slipped out of his outer clothes and crawled in beside Jimmy, putting his arm around an equally stubborn guitarist, who finally relented and rolled toward and snuggled into Robert's warmth. "I love you," Jimmy whispered.

"I love you, Jimmurs."

"Roblove, thank you for coming back," Jimmy said softly, moving his head up to the pillow to look into Robert's face, their noses almost touching.

"You knew I was coming back, didn't you?"

"I didn't know _when_."

Robert squeezed him, he never got tired of that slim body nestled against his. Despite the trauma of the day and their soreness, they found desire rising in them as they gently caressed one another, kissing lightly, tasting, enjoying. "I need, I need.." gasped Jimmy as he writhed under Robert's practiced hands.

"Are you sure?"

"Nnnnh, yes."

Robert moved until his face was over Jimmy's cock, which picked up the sensation of his breath on it. "Please, Robert," whined the guitarist. Robert began by licking his tongue up and down the shaft, eliciting fevered moans from Jimmy. He tongued the older man's balls, teasing, before finally taking the length into his mouth. Jimmy's eyes rolled back in his head, this pleasure, this wonderful feeling after such anguish he'd had the past 24 hours, was all the sweeter, the more urgent. His Robert, his Robert hadn't ran away this time, he had come back, Oh Gods this is so nice, he thought. Robert worked him, not wanting to torment him any further but sensing his need, building the desire, driving, driving, the way he knew Jimmy liked when he was in a mood. Jimmy's hips moved instinctively, driving his member deep into Robert's mouth, he didn't care that he went out of rhythm a few times and felt teeth, it was amazing, yes. "Do it, suck it, Rob, you suck it so well, don't you? Ohh yes, like that," he crooned in that soft voice of his. It was perfectly filthy and made Robert's half erection spring to life. Soon Jimmy tensed and spent himself in Robert's mouth, the singer swallowing it down, savoring it, his Jimmy, forever his.

Jimmy was panting, overwhelmed by the release, as Robert crawled back up and kissed him. He tasted himself on Robert's lips, felt so loved and taken care of at that moment. "Now it's your turn," the guitarist grinned, noticing the engorged cock of his bedmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more will be forthcoming, not sure what's gonna happen next. I'm just enjoying the ride, hope you guys are too!


	7. Three's Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artery clogging, love spreading, will three be better than two?
> 
> M/F/M

7 

Everyone was sore in the morning, especially the two guys in their 70's who woke up grimacing and cursing the Universe. Robert had removed the wrap from his hand and wrist last night, and the fingers were swelled a bit and his knuckles were bruised. Jimmy softly touched the scratches on the singer's face and tsked, followed by Robert looking over the wounds on Jimmy's back and arms. The housekeepers were already about their business, unaware of the goings on of the day before but puzzled that the ex girlfriend had spent the night and the owner of Tower House had his boyfriend in residence at the moment too. Oh well, they're rock stars, what can you do?

The men found Scarlett in the kitchen with the sling off but holding her left arm close to her body, the smell of food frying wafting to their noses.

"Well, this is a proper fry-up," Robert said, quite enthusiastic about the idea.

"Since it's been a rough couple days I felt like we need something tasty and heart-clogging to enjoy," she said brightly.

One of the keepers had helped her retrieve items and such, but she had busied herself laying out a full breakfast: tea, coffee, buttered toast, fried eggs, baked beans, bangers, fried potatoes, bacon, and grilled tomatoes. "That smells great, I'm starving," announced Jimmy, which made the other two glad; he was known to treat food as an optional thing, mostly an annoyance getting in the way of something else he wanted to do.

The boys grabbed plates and silverware to help portion out this breakfast feast, and Jimmy helped the sore-armed of the trio to get their plates to the table without losing their food. For once, the guitarist actually tucked in with gusto, making contented little "mmm" noises. "Who knew a home invasion would be good for his appetite," Scarlett observed as she was demolishing a sausage. "We should schedule one regularly."

"No thanks, my poor bones can't take the abuse," Jimmy managed to say in between eggs and bacon.

"So, ah, Scarlett," Robert began, and Jimmy stared at him from across the table, but the singer was already gearing up. "It's clear that the two of you," he indicated Jimmy and her, "are still in love with each other. And Jimmy and I, well that's obvious he's not going to be able to get rid of me anytime soon, so..."

Scarlett swallowed a piece of toast and queried, "You want a threesome?"

"No, well yes, that'd be great," Robert chortled. "But I was, that is, we were thinking of a partnership, with all three of us. A three way. Thing."

"I just got settled in at my new place," she said slowly, having nearly cleaned her plate.

"You don't have to move back in immediately," Jimmy suggested. "We could just see how things go, the three of us. Love is the Law."

"What makes you think I want to be in a poly relationship with a bloke who annoys the piss out of me?"

"Because it's one of my endearing qualities," Robert smiled exaggeratedly.

Scarlett laughed. "I was just messing with you. I'm open to the idea..don't know how it would work, but I suppose we could try."

"Great!" Robert jumped out of his chair, rushed over and with his uninjured left arm swept the surprised girl against him and squeezed. He was laughing, she found herself laughing as well, then she reached up to kiss him. She could disappear into him, this lion, this sun god so much larger than her, larger than life, the way he easily lifted her, the way he laughed. She felt another pair of arms thread around her, leaned into the touch to feel Jimmy's soft lips on her throat, kissing lightly. She broke the kiss with Robert to kiss Jimmy, again aware of two pairs of hands on her.

"I missed you," Jimmy whispered into her cascades of red hair. 

Then Jimmy was kissing Robert and Scarlett found it hotter than she expected. Jimmy finally broke the kiss and took hold of the others' hands. "Come on, loves." They all went to the master bedroom. Clothing and inhibitions were soon lost, with the trio a steamy tangle of arms, legs, and long hair. Due to everyone's various injuries, it made things tricky, but Jimmy ended up crawling on top of the poet as Robert kissed her, one arm around her shoulders and the other hand tweaking her erect nipple. She was dripping wet at this point and needing to be filled, to be fucked.

She felt Jimmy enter her in one deep push and moaned into Robert's mouth. The guitarist began moving in her, almost lost his rhythm as he couldn't believe how sexy it was to see Robert and Scarlett kissing and caressing each other as he plunged slowly in and out of the girl. 

Scarlett then took Robert's huge, engorged organ in hand, which was already dripping precum, using that to lubricate as she wanked him, all while being fucked by Jimmy. They were all locked together in pleasure, giving and receiving all at once. Robert had scooted down so she could stroke him and he could kiss her, and he was close enough for Jimmy to lay a hand on the broad back, fingertips light on his skin, and he felt Robert shudder at the sensation. 

Call and return, give and take, the call of love, watch it grow.

"Oh, Jimmy, harder. Please!" Scarlett begged. He obliged, slamming into her, the sounds of flesh on flesh and the moans of his partners in his ears along with the quickened beating of his heart. 

The woman writhed under him, porcelain skin with a sheen of sweat, matching the beautiful golden man thrusting into her hand. She cried out and Jimmy felt her pussy clench, felt her body tense as she screamed out her orgasm.

It was amazing and Jimmy slammed into her a few more times before saying, "Ah. I'm about there--"

Robert turned to him and quickly said, "I want it, Jimmylove. I want to taste you."

Barely in time, he pulled himself from Scarlett's warm depths and his cock erupted, a white stream hitting her belly and then Robert fastening his mouth on Jimmy's rock-hard dick, sucking him, taking the spurts of come as Jimmy's balls pulsed and emptied. Robert didn't cease until Jimmy's cock began to soften and he was gibbering nonsense.

Robert tasted both Scarlett and Jimmy, making it an unbelievable turnon, her juices and his husband's, savoring both in his mouth. Some warm come spilled onto his lips, and Jimmy pulled him up to kiss and revel in the taste of himself and Scarlett on Robert's sweet lips. As one, the poet and guitarist then took turns stroking that magnificent cock and massage his balls until he reached climax, spattering them both with his tremendous load. Jimmy and Scarlett traced their fingers through Robert's essence, then tasted it, kissed each other as Robert, overcome with his orgasm, panted and watched. 

The trio collapsed in bed in a jumble of limbs, sweat, jizz, and hair, exhausted but feeling much love and contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how we gonna work a multiple residence multiple partner relationship and will Robert do something to make one or both his loves murder him...


	8. The Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our trio gets a little shaken. Maybe some more Led Zeppelin Storytime Hour is forthcoming? Haven't decided yet.

Latter Days 2

8

Time passed. Scarlett kept her place as she enjoyed the occasional privacy and knew that the boys liked to have themselves alone at times, but things were nice, actually. She visited Robert at times in Wales, at times alone, others with Jimmy. Tongues wagged whenever she showed up on Robert’s arm at ball games, his granddaughter Sunny’s shows, his son’s pub. Let them talk, was the general consensus, and Robert and Jimmy felt they’d paid enough dues over the years, and were caught at times hand in hand with each other. 

The surviving members of Led Zeppelin were begged to do an interview for a talk show, to find out if Jimmy had any more demos or reference mixes hidden up his sleeve that could be released, and to dispel the persistent rumors of a possible reunion. They finally agreed, Robert of course having been the holdout threatening to set fire to the studio, but he finally came round.

Scarlett accompanied her husbands? Boyfriends?…to the event, her arms threaded in Jimmy’s and Robert’s arm, all three beaming with happiness. They found John Paul Jones already there, punctual in his old age, and they greeted him warmly in the reception room. He knew Scarlett had been with Jimmy, but raised an eyebrow at her also leaning on and touching Robert casually. They laughed and talked a minute, then went in search of something to drink, as Robert was already complaining about the whole thing.

Jonesy asked her if she wanted to sit with him, which she agreed and sat on the overstuffed sofa with him. She was chatting with him about some story he was regaling her with about the Zeppelin days when she laid her hand on his hand, and the mirth slid off her face. His heavy-lidded grey eyes stared at her, shocked, frozen, and she at last jerked her hand away, snarling “Good God, you too? You bunch of—of, sluts!”

“Oh shit. Not the magic again,” mumbled the bassist, watching as the woman leaped to her feet and went screeching in search of Robert and Jimmy.

“I mean, it was just the one time,” John Paul Jones called after her. “Well, maybe more than once.”

Damn Jimmy Page and that supernatural nonsense.

Scarlett found them having refreshments and being prepped for the show, and gestured at them till they noticed. “Come here!” she hissed.

They broke away from the handlers to see what she was so upset about. “You guys,” she began, taking a deep breath. “Have you all fucked each other in Zeppelin and every other English musician since 1968?”

“You touched Jonesy, did you?” asked Jimmy.

“Yes!” she hissed, stamping her foot. “You!” she leveled at Robert. “Can you at least give me a short list of who you HAVEN’T fucked?”

“I’d have to think about it for a minute,” he said.

“What?” Jimmy’s eyes grew big at Robert. “You and, and Jonesy?”

“Yes.”

“John Paul Jones??” he repeated.

“Yes..?..”

“The fuck, Planty!”

“I was in a wheelchair, Jimjam! He was there, I was there, there was booze, you know..”

“I made an album. All by myself,” huffed Jimmy.

“My question is, am I gonna catch hepatitis A through double Z?” shrieked Scarlett.

“It’s Jonesy, he ain’t got anything but a case of the boredom,” Robert sniffed.

“Calm down,” Jimmy told Scarlett, which had the opposite effect. She tossed her waist length hair, shook her bony fists, paced around the hall.

“It was just the one time,” offered Robert. “Well, one um, time period. Then we didn’t do it again. I don’t think.”

Jimmy eyed his husband. “You’re not helping your case, Robert.”

“Scarlett. Darling,” Robert said softly, which somehow managed to quell her raging for the moment. “You have two men in love with you, have pledged themselves to us three and nobody else. If I were to stray, you’d know. Have I given you reason to doubt me since we’ve been together?”

“No,” she admitted.

“All right then. We’re going to be going on the show shortly. Please don’t trash the place.”

“No promises,” she pouted.

[Recent Robert](http://fav.me/de12k97)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh the humanity!
> 
> The bass player kinda gets around, after all lmao.


	9. The Chronicles of Fuckia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Scarlett kill one or more members of Led Zeppelin?
> 
> What exactly happened with him and Jonesy during Robert's convalescence?
> 
> Also, blowjobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chronicling the post car accident time in 1975.

Latter Days 2

9

“D’you think she’ll do something…I don’t know…drastic?” Robert said under his breath, as they sat in between questions during the interview.

“No, I don’t think so,” Jimmy whispered back, Robert on his left, Jonesy on his right, with the bassist trying to hold it together. He always tried to stay far away from Jimmy’s wizardly proclivities but to actually witness actual magick really messed with his head. Along with the images he’d gotten from Scarlett he just really didn’t need to know the grimy details of her, Jimmy and Robert’s little love triangle. He also felt bad about making her upset even though she was the one looking into his head, just fuck, as usual it all led back to Blondie.

When Robert eye-rolled his way through the interview, Jimmy with a fake smile plastered on, and Jones doing his usual witty rejoinders, they were done at last and went in search of the high-tempered poet. They found her in one of the conference rooms stuffing her face with potato salad and finger foods, if one can call the angry slapping of items on a plate and then equally angrily popping it in her wide mouth and chewing, stuffing her face.

“Hey guys, this isn’t half bad,” she tells them as they cautiously approach.

“You um, holding up all right?” Jimmy ventured.

“I suppose,” she said while chewing thoughtfully. “This is going into the secret records I’m keeping together of you guys.”

“Say what?” asked the bassist, horrified. He actually didn’t look much different than he did back in Zeppelin’s’ heyday, a few lines, shorter hair, but he had held up remarkably well. Jimmy felt that the bassist was probably the one who had sold his soul to Satan for an unmarked face and all his original hair.

“It’s not for the public. At least, not while you all are alive,” Scarlett assures him. “It’s just that I feel like all this history must be preserved. The true history.”

“Oh no. Nope. Not even,” Jonesy refused. “Nothing about me, Planty, Bonzo, I mean, my wife still don’t know the details of me and John—“

“I didn’t even know about you and Bonzo,” Scarlett’s mind whirled. “These two never breathed a word.”

“Wasn’t our secret to reveal, love,” Robert said gently.

“The price of me not flogging all three of you to death for giving a young woman a heart attack is you telling me the thing with you and Robert. I’m the chronicler, so gimme the chronicle.”

“Who said she could do all that?” stalled the bassist.

“I did,” Robert coughed. “So somebody’s gonna have to, how do they say it nowadays, spill the tea.”

“She’s pretty dead set, mate,” Jimmy put in. “She gets a one track mind.”

“Fine, but then you gotta tell me about you lovebirds sharing a girl,” Jonesy growled.

Oh look, it’s Story Time!

September, 1975

After the terrible car accident, Robert initially was sent to the isle of Jersey for tax reasons, as they were all tax exiles unless they wanted to lose the greater portion of their earnings, but he puttered about and sank into a dark depression. Jimmy and G decided the best thing to do would be to get to work writing songs for a new album, since touring was put on an indefinite hold. Robert’s ankle was broken, and his leg in three different places, so he was in a cast from the hip down. He was only to stand when getting in and out of his wheelchair or going to the loo, and had a cane to assist him with that.

The injured Golden God was shipped from Jersey to a rented house in Malibu, California, and time was booked for rehearsals at a studio in Hollywood. The intent was for Robert and Jimmy to push one another, and write the bulk of material for a new album. Bonzo and Jonesy would arrive later on to do their parts, but Jimmy wanted to keep Robert busy, and try to get him out of his black mood. 

Robert lay in bed the second morning, staring up at the ceiling in the rented house, pondering what would they do if he couldn’t recover, could never walk again? How would they work around that? He wouldn’t be able to tour, that was for sure, and just because he was disabled didn’t mean the other guys couldn’t continue on. It was a chilling thought, and one he couldn’t push completely from his mind. Jimmy stirred and awoke after some time, and the singer was still staring up at the ceiling, looking at nothing. “Roblove,” prodded Jimmy gently. “We got to get going soon.”

“I know,” he answered in a monotone.

Jimmy got himself ready, then returned to check on Robert to find him in the same place, staring at nothing. “Here, let me help you up,” Jimmy said, and without waiting for assent he helped Robert dress and somehow pulled his lanky but solid frame out of bed and into the wheelchair. This made Robert ambivalent, he liked being doted on and Jimmy showing his concern, but he also knew this was unlike the guitarist, and that someday he’d begin to feel the strain. He could be thoughtful and loving, but a nurturer he was not, and now a lot of responsibility had fallen on his narrow shoulders as far as the band’s fate. 

Jimmy poked at Robert when they got to the studio, and things began to unfurl out of the singer as the petals of a flower greeting the sun, and an epic song began to take shape. As the days passed it was nicknamed “The Epic” and “The Wheelchair Song.” Other songs began to coalesce, hard-edged songs mostly, bluesy, angst-ridden, which was to be expected given the situation. 

Two weeks in Robert was feeling slightly better about things. He ate better, tinkered around on the practice guitar Jimmy left in the rental home, ate painkillers, stayed loopy a lot of the time. He didn’t notice the manic periods Jimmy was having, mostly due to cocaine and heroin, which kept the guitarist going more than food or sleep did. Jimmy had went on a quick store run and returned, to find a Robert rolling around in his wheelchair erratically and going “Vroom, vroom.”

“What…are you doing?” Jimmy asked as he set down bags on the counter.

“The sound effects help,” Robert giggled.

Well, this was better than morose, rather vicious Robert, which he’d never seen until the accident. Robert had exploded a few times randomly and it actually took the guitarist aback. Even so disabled, Robert snapping was frightening, his upper body strength having grown since he couldn’t really use his legs. He’d grabbed hold of Bonzo before they left for California, for joking about not having things work from the waist down, and made the man known as the Beast informally, squeal like a little girl. But this Robert-on-too-many-pain-pills was rather annoying, as he watched the singer roll his wobbly way to the counter and tear into one of the bags.

Jimmy then spent the next few minutes picking up items from the floor and putting them on the counter, having to remind himself his body hadn’t been shattered as Robert’s has, his future wasn’t uncertain as the singer’s was, though the fate of Led Zeppelin was tied with Robert’s recuperation. “Jim,” Robert said. “I’ve been working on more songs. Check it, kissing whiskers left and right, hope she don’t talk like Barry White!” he sang gleefully.

“Oh,” Jimmy breathed out when realization dawned. It was about Jonesy;s run-in with a drag queen down in New Orleans, which they’d never let the bassist live down. “Have fun trying to get that past Jones.”

“We’ll get Bonzo to give it a really funky beat,” Robert chirped brightly. “It’ll be great!”

The assistants showed up to help cook dinner, leaving Jimmy to herd Robert from the kitchen so there’d be enough room for meal preparation. In the little den in the back, Jimmy was going to leave Robert there, briefly considering locking him in then decided against it if the rarely-seen post-accident scary temper decided to assert itself. Robert then picked that moment to get handsy, rubbing the guitarist’s crotch. “Oh Jimmee,” Robert whined, fluttering those cornsilk eyelashes up at him. He undid the button on Jimmy’s trousers and unzipped as he was trying to push the insistent hands away. “You barely touch me anymore,” he said in a pouty voice that somehow managed to sound obscenely hot.

“You’re still healing,” Jimmy countered. “Now’s not the time, someone could come in—“

“They’re making food,” Robert rebutted, finally reaching his prize, Jimmy’s dick. He thumbed the head, the slit, underneath the head, sending jolts of electricity right to his core. Jimmy moaned and stopped trying to squirm away while his bandmate, trapped in a wheelchair, fondled his balls and got his mouth on his cock and started sucking in earnest. Jimmy felt like it was taking advantage of an invalid which was why he hadn’t initiated any sexual moves much on Robert since the injury. Robert wasn’t to be denied, though, as he could suck cock so well it reduced Jimmy to groaning “Oh, Rob, your mouth is so sweet, ohhh.”

Robert was so pleased, so happy to get Jimmy’s member in his mouth, he’d missed it so. He missed Jimmy doing the same for him, among other things, but he loved sucking off the love of his life, his husband, though only they and handful of people knew of the Great Rite they performed years ago at Jennings Farm. Jimmy’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back, the wavy coal-black hair spilling around his shoulders, his mouth half-open in growing ecstasy. “Yesss, Jimmurs,” murmured Robert, more serious now, like this was a sacrament, a sacred play, and indeed as Robert was full of different drugs he could almost see a dark halo around the guitarist’s head. He was caught up, swept away, all while bringing his love closer and closer to his release.

Jimmy cried out in half-triumph, half-surprise, filling Robert’s mouth. In his loopy state he didn’t swallow it all, some of it falling out his lips and down his chin. Jimmy looked down at Robert licking his lips, bent and kissed his mouth, loving his own taste on Robert’s mouth. “Robert. Honey. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I did,” he insisted. “You haven’t had any love from me, haven’t had a good release. You’re stressed, love,” he said with the alacrity of the injured and drugged out.

Unfortunately, that was the time the roadies announced that dinner was ready. Jimmy rolled Robert toward the dining area, which he had taken so many pills he couldn’t get it up at the moment even if Jimmy had tried to get him off.

John Paul Jones and John Bonham arrived a couple weeks after that to the usual fanfare, Jonesy retreating to get away from everyone and Bonzo demanding to know where the liquor was. 

The rhythm section found things had changed this album, as Jimmy had taken almost full control of everything, other than Robert writing lyrics and coming up with a few melodies. He spent more and more time in the rehearsal space, occasionally calling for Jonesy to help with arrangements but otherwise leaving everyone at loose ends. He went days without eating or sleeping. Songs were actually coming along nicely, and Jimmy and Peter both hoped they would soon be able to record.

Bonzo soon became surly from missing his family, knowing they’d be spending the better part of a year without seeing their loved ones. He took to tearing up the town with his drum techs and hangers-on, staying out all hours of the day and night. Somehow, Jones became Robert’s chaperone if Jimmy didn’t need him for songwriting or practice that day, wheeling him around and taking him to dives and bars and shopping. They’d never really bonded that much, with Robert still a bit awed at the shear virtuosity of the well-versed musician. Jonesy could actually be quite funny, and was helpful, helping Robert in and out of the wheelchair with ease even given his slight stature and stoic nature. Well, he had three daughters and would be well practiced being a father by now, Robert thought. He’d become the helpless child of Led Zeppelin, it seems.

At Jonesy’s insistence, the singer cut down on the pain meds, opting instead to stay drunk a good portion of the time. Jimmy only returned to the house they were staying in every couple days now, making Robert feel particularly shunned and unneeded, sending his mood back to bleak despair. 

The bassist found Robert crying in front of the telly in the living room, and didn’t know what to do. The blond man was normally so optimistic and upbeat, so effervescent, seeing him like this was a shock. “Robert, hey,” he finally said, getting Robert to look at him. “Look, things are tough right now, but things will get better, you’ll see.”

“What if I won’t be able to walk again?” he asked meekly. “What will we all do?”

“We’ll figure it out if it comes to that,” Jonesy answered. “You’ve had too much time to think and let this get to you. What you need, is distraction.”

“Can you juggle?” Robert asked, his humor having asserted itself slightly.

“We’re going out,” Jonesy declared.

“Gettin’ drunk!” crowed Robert.

“Only if you haven’t been eating those pills like candy.”

“Not much,” Robert said, deflated slightly now.

“Let me see your pill bottle.”

“You’re not my mom,” he muttered, but handed it over. The bottle wasn’t too terribly empty, meaning the singer had mostly been taking it easy. The bassist took hold of the handles of the wheelchair and rolled the singer out into the sunny world of California.

They both proceeded to get drunk throughout the day, and Robert stuffed himself at a couple different restaurants, declaring that if he didn’t heal he was just going to get fat and be a sit-down lounge singer and play ditties on the piano. Feeling pretty inebriated, Jones laughed at that, and laughed at all the little observations and sayings that bubbled out of the frontman. Robert enjoyed the easy company, the bassist’s occasional sass notwithstanding, he wasn’t as grouchy as Jimmy could be whenever Robert was being silly, or as boisterous or destructive as Bonzo when drunk.

Jones for one found he wasn’t exasperated as he expected he would be, but during more lucid moments Robert was interesting and intelligent and had such natural talent and charm. He wasn’t bad on the eyes either, he found. Usually he ignored the sexual things between Jimmy and Robert and the drama and just thought of Robert as an annoying but lovable rube. They had to get one of the assistants to drive them home as they both were drunk, but Jonesy dutifully pushed Robert into the house and to the bedroom he and Jimmy shared.

Robert was quite toasted and had trouble trying to get from the wheelchair to the bed. “Silly boy,” snickered John Paul Jones and stepped forward to assist the singer onto the edge of the bed. Robert pulled off his shoe, which popped off all of a sudden and sent him laughing to his back. Jonesy shook his head and turned to go find his own bed when Robert called to him.

“John. Help, help me sit up. I need to get out of these clothes.”

The bassist pulled the singer upright, peeled off Robert’s t-shirt and then had to peel him out of the pants over top the full leg cast. He was afraid of hurting Robert, but he didn’t make any indication of discomfort as he worked. Now he felt tired and sat down beside Robert, his head swimming somewhat. “Jonesy, you ok, mate? You’re swaying,” Robert asked.

“I’m fine,” Jonesy answered.

Robert grabbed the smaller man’s arm to steady him, received a smile in return. The bassist was pretty good-looking, Robert thought. He was so unassuming, never boastful or a seeker of attention. He did his job, was always the supporter, quietly taking care of things in the background. But there was a silent strength there, unassuming. He looked into those large grey eyes and was moved by the kindness and open, fair face. Robert did what Robert usually did: just do shit without thinking too much about it, usually following his dick.

He kissed the pretty lips of the bassist, who was so surprised he just sat there dumbfounded for a minute or so, then pulled back. “Robert, no,” Jonesy said softly. “You’re hurt and drunk and on pain pills and I’m drunk as fuck.”

“So. Heh, you said fuck.”

“Robert—“

“I’m so down, Jones. So down and lonely. You can make me forget,” Robert said, laying his hand on the bassist’s face, bringing it close to Robert’s face to kiss him again. The smaller man melted into the kiss, realizing he had such need as well. Bonzo had ignored him for the last little while to take his frustrations out getting drunk and getting into fights, and his family was thousands of miles away.

“Well then,” John declared. “Let me get these clothes off.”

****

[Recent Jimmy looking fabulous](http://fav.me/de14zpt)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyone still reading? lol. Kudos, donuts, praise, suggestions, writing ideas, etc welcome.
> 
> Time for some Plant/Jones lol.


	10. The Chronicles of Fuckia part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert/Jonesy ORAL SEXXXX
> 
> weee I'm both envious and kinda feel sorry for Scarlett at the same time. Lol

Latter Days 2

10

The bassists's silk shirt, trousers and underwear joined Robert's clothing on the floor, then the man joined Robert in the bed. The bed Jimmy shared with Robert, he thought drunkenly, but it had become less and less often. Jimmy should know what this was doing to the needy and broken blond frontman, even Jones could see it. Robert received Jonesy eagerly into his long arms, the smaller man's lean, compact body partially covering the other's, trying to heed the broken leg in his drunken frenzy to devour Robert's lips. This was different than what he was used to with Bonzo, or even his wife, though the bassist now admitted Percy was the most gorgeous thing, male or female, he'd ever seen. When he was with someone, all Robert's attention and focus was on them and nothing or nobody else.

It was intense, to say the least.

He'd seen Robert nude and in various states of undress over the years given Robert's freewheeling attitude about sex and the human body, but now John really looked at him. The golden curls spilling out over the pillow, the rosy glow to his cheeks from alcohol and rising passion, the way he writhed under Jonesy's kisses and caresses. The lean but muscled arms, pronounced hipbones, long, sexy legs, sunkissed skin, as he ran around naked outside as much as he could get away with. Jonesy blurted out how beautiful Robert is, making the other man smile, happy with the compliment.

Robert in turn was painfully hard by now, his enormous cock straining against his belly, dripping with his need. Jonesy took him in hand, those slender, talented hands working on him. He slowly stroked the shaft while cupping his balls with the other hand, getting the most obscene, sexual moans and vocalizations Jonesy had ever heard out of the singer. "Oh, that's ahh, so nice. Kiss me, John," Robert panted. Jones obliged, feeling Robert's tongue dart in and out of his mouth. 

Robert was lapping up the attention, chuffed that Jonesy at least still found him attractive despite his infirmity and ugly, stupid cast. He watched the sandy-haired head bobbing up and down as he now sucked the singer's cock and noted the bassist did it with practiced ease despite both men's intoxication. It had been so long, Robert didn't last long until he felt that familiar pull in his abdomen as he neared climax. He closed his eyes, let the waves of pleasure wash over him, then the waves crashed hard, his fist bunched up, tearing at the bedclothes, screaming out his much needed release. Somehow the smaller man swallowed the majority of the pent up load, and wiped the rest from his face with a stray shirt laying at the foot of the bed. He settled back into Robert's embrace, the singer looking into the heavy-lidded, knowing eyes of Jonesy. "Jonesy, darling," he sighed. "Thank you."

"Robert, poor dear. You need to get some rest."

"No, it's your turn," breathed the singer, and pulled at Jonesy. "You'll have to scoot up here in your knees, stuff another pillow behind me. There."

"What are you--"

"I'm sucking your cock, Jonesy," he chuckled, and set to it.

The bassist's eyes rolled into the back of his head, dear sweet baby Jesus the man could suck dick, better than any groupie, better than anything he could've imagined. He licked places he wouldn't have dreamed would make him shiver in pleasure, did this thing where he ever so gently brushed his teeth over the head of Jonesy's cock, and there was really no pain, only intense waves of ecstasy. How the fuck? wondered the bassist. No wonder Pagey was so enamoured of him. 

He was more connected mentally and emotionally with Bonzo, had learned the large, meaty body of the drummer, shared a close friends/peers who just happened to have sex with each other thing, but the sheer physical sensation Robert was giving him was pure insanity. He thrust hard into the other man's mouth, but Robert never faltered. "Rob, unnh, I'm close," he warned the taller man, but Robert poured on the speed and finesse until he milked Jonesy's cock dry.

Once again he was enfolded into that long-armed, strong embrace, panting. "I'm not the first bloke for you, am I?" Robert asked.

The bassist wasn't prepared for that. "Um, ah, well, no," he replied. 

Robert was silent a moment, making him think the singer was going to drift off to sleep, then he spoke up again. "Bonzo, innit?"

Had he been taking creeper mind reading lessons from Pagey? He couldn't make his mouth work.

"Oh come on, ol' Bob knows what time it is, mate."

"All right, yes. It started when you and Jimmy were in Morocco this year."

"I'm glad. You need to talk some sense into the old boy, he's gonna get himself hurt or in trouble if he don't stop." Robert yawned, exhaustion now setting in. "Stay with me, Jonesy. Jimmy won't be back tonight."

Laying in bed with the Most Beautiful Human on the Planet, after he'd just given him the most mind altering blowjob, he couldn't say no. 

The pair carried on during the initial writing phase of the new album, both taking solace in the friendly understanding of one another. And also, being horny young men separated from their families, sex. They never breathed a word of it to anyone, and the little affair ended once the band picked up and transplanted to Munich to record. Well, mostly.

"Mostly?" Echoed Scarlett and Jimmy together. 

"Oh you're talking about that time during the '77 tour when Bonzo took that anxiety medicine and drank a ton of whiskey and passed out while tossing you off?" Robert asked.

"Yeah."

"I decided to be a team player and finished him off. What are friends for?" Robert declared.

"I'm just still in shock I never knew, all these years," Jimmy said, almost to himself.

"I think Jonesy's the biggest slut of the group," said Scarlett, amazed at all the sexual shenanigans perpetrated by Zeppelin. 

"So now, what's the deal with you three?" Jones asked, ignoring the remark.

"We're um, we're all married. To one another," Jimmy spoke up. "All right, not legally, but you know."

"You two, you and only you forever, he's-my-prince-charming, cohabitating with a bird. Together."

The trio nodded. 

Jones looked incredulous. "Don't tell me, it's some sex magick thing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, stay safe, hope you're all healrhy, practice safe sex, etc.


	11. All's Welll that Ends...Hell?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unusual relationship continues to bloom.
> 
> M/M/F sexxes and stuff.
> 
> And also a bombshell being dropped lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may bleed into some of the happenings in my Soul Remains the Same work, if you wanna check it out.
> 
> Here's hoping Robert doesn't have a heart attack lol.

Latter Days 2

11

The trio, without going into too much magical detail (as it creeped the bassist out even now) then explain how the three of them ended up in their unusual arrangement. Surprisingly, he was pretty happy for them, as he observed the three seemed to complete a triad of something that had previously been lacking amongst them.

“Like the old Celtic Triads,” murmured the redhead approvingly.

“You guys are the biggest weirdos I’ve ever met, so no wonder you’re together,” snickered Jonesy.

The day had wore on, so they decided to head home, saying fond farewells to the bassist. Robert crushed the much smaller man to him, having not realized how much John’s acceptance and understanding had meant to him, and the bassist was stiff at first, then hugged the big old lion back. All the problems they’d had and their short affair (that both had nearly forgotten about, to be honest) were so long ago, it seemed. What remained was the musical rapport and fondness and shared experience.

Once back at Tower House, it was now evening, the sun sinking low on the horizon, casting long shadows. Robert betook himself to the back garden, wanting to breath in the organic smells and enjoy the growing dusk, never having outgrown his hippie background. He could almost pretend he was a nobleman, having traveled over the world on errands now retired, enjoying his palatial estate in his later years. As he walked, the fall air grew crisp, reminding his hip and leg of their terrible trauma suffered decades ago. There were times that leg was almost bowed from the arthritis and ancient wound, while the other remained straight as ever. It made walking difficult at times, but he managed.

Scarlett and Jimmy decided to have a little fun, the guitarist having discovered he was raring to go, as things had become more sporadic as he aged. They were soon undressed and in the bed in the master bedroom, making the headboard thump in a slowly quickening pace. Scarlett writhed underneath the silver-haired wizard, enjoying what he was doing to her to no end. Unlike what had been whispered occasionally about her, she wasn’t after his money or infamy of dating the Led Zeppelin musician, she had bonded with him deeply. The age difference didn’t matter to ether of them.

Jimmy’s eyes were nearly closed, not registering as he pushed in and out of Scarlett with abandon, when he felt a pair of hands on him. He turned his head to the right to find Robert, unclothed now, plucking stray strands of wavy white hair from his sweaty forehead. It was unexpected and tender, as Robert for once was tired at the moment unable to rise to the occasion but unable to keep his hands off his spouses. He leaned forward to press his lips against the full, pouty lips of the guitarist, soft yet insistent. Jimmy moaned into the singer’s mouth, still fucking Scarlett who was treated to the erotic sight of her husbands kissing slowly yet passionately. “Ohh, oh loves, I’m gonna, unnh—“ she groaned.

Robert broke away from the guitarist to lay beside Scarlett, and kiss her with equal passion. “Yes, come, darling. Come for us,” he murmured. The woman’s warm hazel eyes grew wide, then that slender, delicious body shuddered as she climaxed. Jimmy moaned as he felt the added juices and her pussy clench around him as he thrust in her. As her orgasm ended, Jimmy continued to rock his hips, rolling them into her, deep, with he added lubrication piercing her soul, it seemed. Her first instinct was to squirm away to enjoy the post-orgasm afterglow, but Robert took one of her pert nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue, sucking, kneading the other pert breast with his hand. She moaned, squealed, arched her back. She was coming, coming, again, or was it that she hadn’t truly stopped? Then Robert slid his hand down to rub her node of pleasure, sending jolts of electricity through her. 

Now she was screaming her peak, again and again, her walls quivering around Jimmy’s cock, pulling, insisting, and he couldn’t take it any longer. He erupted, adding his warm spunk to her already dripping pussy. After the aftershocks subsided, he collapsed beside his wife, panting and boneless.

Robert climbed in between them, enjoying their warmth, fitting himself against the both of them. After the fucked-out pair calmed a bit, they noticed Robert was now half-hard, the witnessing of his loves getting off spectacularly having finally kickstarted his hardon. As one, Jimmy and Scarlett set to working the singer over, the girl plundering Robert’s mouth as Jimmy lazily stroked the enormous dick, now leaking precum.

Robert’s blue eyes rolled back into his head once he felt the warm, eager mouth of Jimmy enclose his shaft. It was so, so amazing, the love being shared, given and received. He bucked his hips, wanting Jimmy to go faster, but he took his time building him up. Robert felt the slim young body of Scarlett pressed against him, her hands over him, kissing him as Jimmy sucked him expertly.

“It’s your turn,” whispered Scarlett into his ear. “Now you’re gonna come for us. Mmm, yes. Let me breathe you both in, expel the love, the passion, the little death that brings life. Yes, love. Yes.”

“God, oh, my sweet darlings,” he moaned out, then he spent himself in Jimmy’s mouth, and he milked him for all he was worth. Now the singer lay there, limbs made of lead, utterly exhausted yet content. The guitarist and poet snuggled into Robert, on either side of him, he being their anchor and strength and comfort. And thus they drifted off to sleep.

The trio spent a few weeks at Robert’s farmhouse, enjoying the quiet and the countryside. As the days passed, Scarlett grew moody and withdrawn, making the two men wonder what could be wrong.

One day after she had exited the shower, and found the two long time lovers in the den. Jimmy was updating his social media on his smartphone while Robert, with cute reading glasses, was perusing a book about King Arthur.

“Jimmy, Robert, can I, um, talk to you?”

“Hmm?” both went absentmindedly.

“I want a baby,” she announced.

Jimmy dropped his smartphone as he looked up at her, while Robert nearly choked on his tea, the book clattering to the floor.

“Have you noticed what old men we are? We have children older than you,” Jimmy declared.

Robert just stared at her like she’d grown a third head.

“You’re not too old to make a child,” she hissed.

“Dear one, I don’t want to upset you,” Jimmy began, but she cut him off.

“I may be pregnant.”

Robert slid out of his chair and his large body made an undignified thumping sound as it hit the floor like a sack of bricks. He was out.

To be continued, possibly…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I think this ends this particular tale. Perhaps there will be more. Anyone like the old geezers and weird chick? Just wondering lol..
> 
> Love you guys, thanks for the support!
> 
> What you guys think? Any ideas?

**Author's Note:**

> That turned out more gut wrenching than I expected. Thoughts, anyone?
> 
> Kudos much appreciated! Love you guys!


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